On the Occasion that You Find Yourself with Undrinkable Tea

Column Post by Lakin Easterling

Somehow, drinking hot tea has a way of clearing my head. The heat is a flavor all its own, accompanied by the taste of dried leaves, sweet wildflower honey, and the silky texture of almond milk. It’s an experience: the steam, my hands around the mug, all the greatness of knowing this has been a tradition for years, centuries, eons.

It’s a comfort, this cleansing of thoughts gathered over days and weeks, shaking them down to the bare bones, sorting them into their rightful spotlights, where they can be seen and understood with clarity. I need these quiet moments.

Yet even then, some days are a struggle. Even when I get my mug and settle down in solitude {or not-so-solitary solitude, as Daughter and I are joined at the hip}, I can’t quite grasp the tendrils of thoughts that float by, curling like smoke from a bonfire, or from a stick of burning incense slowly scenting my house with lavender, dragon’s blood, or the color indigo {bet you didn’t know indigo could smell}.

Some days my tea grows cold from incessant smoke-watching, from the inability to grasp at the nothing I see rising in front of me, wanting to have something, anything, make sense.

What happens when my fail-proof solace falters and all my safeguards and ways of coping and figuring things out stay silent as the grave? What happens on the days when words become a muck that I can’t seem to find my way out of, bogging me down, wrapping me tight within the confines of confusion?

See, the thing is, as comforting as the blessings we have been given are, as routine as we become with our own ways to ease discomfort, as predictable and surefooted as we are to turn to that which is immediate and physical and present, they will never be able to heal as gracefully or as fully as God.

My cup of tea, though therapeutic, will never be able to fill the space that was meant for my Creator. He knows all the whirring in my mind, the shifting in my heart, and He’s holding out His hand always, for me to take it, to trust Him. There is no better comfort than to stop fighting against the tangled net, to stop wriggling in the quick sand my mind so easily becomes, and let Him pull me up.

“The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”  ~Exodus 14:14 {New International Version}

Some days that happens with a cup of tea, or burning incense. Other days they fail, and I am forced to sit and watch Him make from nothing all the somethings He has planned for me to see. He wants to be my supreme comfort, and some days the only way I will listen to Him is if all else is put away, and the silence is allowed to blossom into a healing balm.

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P.S. We’d love to know your thoughts, so please be sure to comment below. Each of our commenters will be entered in a drawing for this month’s FREE book giveaway, Mothers & Daughters: Mending a Strained Relationship by author Teena Stewart. 

Lakin Easterling is a wife, mother, writer, and avid reader. She spends her days chasing her toddler, Belle, and conversing with the elderly who are afflicted by Alzheimer’s disease or Dementia. She loves surprise coffee dates with her husband Luke, texting novels to her best friend, Laura Hyers, and being a college student. She dreams about being brave enough to get a tattoo, and believes in the healing power of a good cup of coffee. Her favorite nail polish is Sail Away by Milani. She blogs at http://threadingsymphonies.wordpress.com.

Read more encouraging stories from brave-hearted women here. Be sure to grab your free copy of inspirational quotes and writing prompts while you’re there. (Look over on the right hand side!)

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